humanities

in 7th grade, on poetry day
each human is a world
the pencils do their awkward dance
across the spiral journals
where visions are discovered
identities unfurled
fresh encounters of the soul
each poem draft a pearl

the boy who tells the pages
what it means to be Chinese
the girl who battles demons
in her morning dress routine
the emo kid who tries to write
the poem of an age
while the quiet gender-bending hero
turns another page

in these and many, many more
we're weaving Indra's Net
each diamond self reflecting
every other it has met
every body forms a letter
in the cosmic alphabet
every person is a Star

    (though most
   have not seen
   themselves yet... )

at least, I hope,
today's is one class
they won't soon forget